


Stable Song

by indigorose50



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crushes, Established Dorothea/Edelgard, Friends to Lovers, Hubert Singing, Love Confessions, M/M, Music, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Singing, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/pseuds/indigorose50
Summary: Hubert catches Ferdinand singing one morning and the song gets stuck in his head. Just where did Ferdinand learn that song? And how can Hubert hear it again?(Valentine's Day gift for a friend!)
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 19
Kudos: 106





	Stable Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellorgast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellorgast/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day, mittelfrank-divas! This was a great way to practice conveying music in words alone. Please enjoy some musical Ferdibert!

When Hubert knocked on Ferdinand’s office door, he failed to note the time. It was not until a servant passed by, dragging their feet and yawning, that Hubert realized just how early it was. Sunlight was just beginning to grace the windows of the Enbarr Palace. Servants were swapping shifts, guards switching between watches— Emperor Edelgard herself was likely only just starting to stir, if Dorothea wasn’t wrapped around her too tight.

Early as it was, Hubert knew exactly where to find Ferdinand. All the members of the Strike Force had something to say about Hubert’s sleep habits— or rather, his _lack_ of sleep habits— yet not one voiced any complaints about Ferdinand getting up before sunrise to tend to the stables. Something the palace employed multiple stable hands to do.

It was a shame really. Just once Hubert wanted an excuse to wake Ferdinand in his chambers and find an annoyed, bedheaded prime minister bundled under the covers. To make a quip about how unprofessional Ferdinand looked. In Hubert’s mind’s eye, Ferdinand would glare death at him before mumbling something unintelligible and rolling back over. Hubert would shake his head fondly and lean down for a good morning—

Usually the vision ended there.

Hubert slowed as he approached the stables. A bright melody was pouring out the barn doors, guided by a familiar tenor. It was far from uncommon for Ferdinand to be found singing but something about this song made Hubert stop and listen. 

The lyrics spoke of open fields, winds of adventure and promise, gold tinted skies and sunlight filtering through clouds. It brought to mind meandering summer days and the thrill that came with listening to trees sway in the breeze.

With a wistful tone, Ferdinand sang, quite passionately, about a warm hand in his. A comfort to hold onto as they traveled into the unknown of the world. Hubert could almost picture Ferdinand flitting about the barn as he sang on, perhaps putting away a curry comb or patting a horse’s neck. 

It was a sight Hubert suddenly longed to see. But he held himself back, closing his eyes to listen to the rest of the song and briefly putting work out of his mind.

Inevitably, Ferdinand’s singing faded away. The ending was sort of abrupt, in Hubert’s opinion, and he frowned in spite of himself. It was as if Ferdinand had forgotten the rest of the words. 

A cheerful, looping sort of hum filled the air instead. Deciding Ferdinand was not yet finished with his stable chores, Hubert turned and left. The matter was not so pressing that he needed to interrupt.

* * *

After breakfast, Hubert approached Ferdinand’s office again. The door was ajar, to show he was free for conversation, but Hubert still hesitated outside the door. Ferdinand was singing again. More hushed than before. With disappointment, Hubert realized it was not the same song from a few hours ago— in fact he recognized this from an opera that had opened recently. 

He knocked once before pushing the door open. Ferdinand turned and grinned. “Good morning, Hubert!”

“Good morning.”

“Sleep well?”

“Yes.”

“Liar.” Ferdinand tapped his own cheek. “You have ink on your face, which you would have known if you had done your morning routine.”

Hubert scowled and tried to rub the ink off. With a tut, Ferdinand crossed to him and pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket. He held it up with a questioning eyebrow. Wordlessly, Hubert turned his cheek so Ferdinand could whip away the spot. “ _There_ ,” Ferdinand pronounced. “Of course, things like this could be avoided if you went to bed and rose at a decent hour to—”

“Let us pretend I already know how this lecture ends,” Hubert said dryly. He held up the letters he had brought along. “I require your approval on these.”

Ferdinand rolled his eyes but took the letters. “Fine. I shall return them as soon as I am able.”

“Be sure to write all your critiques on a single sheet of parchment so it’s easier for me to toss away later.”

“Just for that, I am going to give you my critiques verbally. Are you free for dinner?”

Mentally canceling a meeting he had that evening, Hubert said, “Yes.”

Ferdinand’s grin was worth the future trouble. “Glad to hear it!”

Once Hubert had excused himself and closed the door behind him, he pressed an ear to the door and waited a beat. There was spirited humming. Fingers tapping. The opening and closing of a desk drawer. But no singing.

No matter, Hubert assured himself as he made his way down the hall with a hand to his cheek. There were plenty of opportunities to listen to Ferdinand’s voice. 

Like dinner, for instance.

* * *

The song would not leave Hubert’s head.

Twice he had caught himself zoning out at his desk, quill tapping in time and notes in his throat. It was _infuriating_. Such a small taste of the song meant the lyrics were not solidified in Hubert’s memory. Though the tune seemed stuck, the words were all but lost— and Hubert turned the scene from yesterday morning over and over in his head to try and catch them. 

After a week, Hubert grew desperate.

Ferdinand had not sung that song. He had sung many, _many_ others. But nothing so filled with emotion and spirit as what Hubert was quickly thinking of as the Stable Song. It was not becoming of the Minister of the Imperial Household, reputed through Fódlan as a master of the shadows, to be constantly humming a half remembered melody about sunshine.

All week, Hubert had been— it was an ugly word but apt— _stalking_ Ferdinand when he had the time. Just on the off chance he would sing that song again. If Ferdinand had noticed, he said nothing. He acted the same as always; inviting Hubert to meals and tea, teasing him about his lack of office decor, locking eyes with him across the meeting table and making a face when a lord made a particularly stupid suggestion…

Always with a smile that made Hubert’s face warm. Hubert had to resist the urge to hold Ferdinand by the wrists whenever he fixed Hubert’s collar, to catch that smile off guard and turn it into a gasp as he pressed forward to—

Hubert thumped his head against the desk in aggravation. He was giving this too much thought. It was time for drastic measures.

A few moments later, Hubert arrived at Edelgard’s private sitting room. Dorothea sat on the elegant chaise lounge by the window. A small tray of finger sandwiches and cookies sat beside her. One cookie was halfway in her mouth when she looked up at Hubert. 

“Dorothea, I require your assistance,” Hubert greeted.

A grin split her face. “Of _course_ I’ll go shopping with you, Hubie! I’m so glad you’ve decided to liven up your wardrobe. You’ve been wearing all black for ages— it’s time for some dark purples.”

Hubert crossed his arms. “That is far from what I was going to say.”

She winked. “It’s what you _should_ say. What did you need?”

“Put simply, there is a song stuck in my head and I need you to sing it.”

Dorothea sat up. “What song?”

Hubert shifted awkwardly, eyes on the tray. “I don’t know. I heard it in passing recently and do not know where it’s from. That’s part of why it’s so annoying.”

Dorothea sat forward with her elbows on her knees and hands under her chin. “I guess _you_ will have to sing it for me first, then.”

“What?”

“Hubert?” Humiliation began to creep in as Edelgard entered the room. It was stupid to think she would be far from Dorothea. “This is a surprise. Normally you don’t join us for lunch.”

Beaming, Dorothea pat the cushion beside her. “Hubie is going to sing for us!”

Edelgard didn’t even try to fight against her smile. She gleefully took the offered spot, and now Hubert had _two_ expectant women staring up at him. “There has been a miscommunication,” Hubert stated helplessly.

“If you don’t know what the song is called, how am I supposed to sing it for you?” Dorothea explained. “At least sing the chorus. That should tip me off.”

Edelgard, who lacked full context, was nodding. “Sound reasoning, dearest.”

Hubert let out a long sigh. It _was_ sound reasoning, which was the worst part. He took a moment to pick out a stanza he remembered best. Then, steeling his spine, Hubert began to sing.

Immediately he knew the song was slightly different. His voice was not as bright as Ferdinand’s, and the tone of the song changed. Hubert lent the melody a kind of longing that had not been there before— while Ferdinand sang as if a charming moment were around the corner, Hubert’s voice painted a picture of one holding out their hand to someone who may not be there. Sprawling hillsides one had to brace themselves for traversing alone. The very edge of bittersweet.

When the song was done, or at least the part Hubert had chosen, he opened his eyes to find twin looks of awe. Hubert cleared his throat. “Well?”

Edelgard _clapped_ . Hubert felt heat creep up his neck as Dorothea joined in. “That was just _lovely_!” Edelgard praised. 

“I would normally not question your taste, Lady Edelgard, but I have to disagree.”

“Shut up!” Dorothea stood and shook Hubert’s arm. “You can _sing_!”

“I assure you, I—”

“Oh just take the compliment,” Edelgard snapped, though she too was grinning. “You have a great voice and you’re lucky I don’t order you to sing all your reports from now on.”

Hubert felt the heat overtake his face. “T-That’s not necessary,” he said under Dorothea’s burst of laughter. “At any rate, what song is that?”

Here Edelgard and Dorothea exchanged a look. Edelgard shrugged and Dorothea tilted her head in thought. After a moment, however, Dorothea shrugged as well. “It’s not from an opera. And I’ve never heard it in a tavern or anything.”

“I have never heard anything like it.” Edelgard smiled softly up at him. “But it’s a truly lovely song, Hubert. I can understand why you would wish to hear it again.”

“It is rather nice.” Hubert felt his shoulder sag. An embarrassing display, gone to waste. 

“Where on earth did you hear it, anyway?” Dorothea sat back down on the lounge, taking another cookie from the tray. Edelgard joined her and took the offered sandwich quarter. 

“Just in the hallways. Like I said, it was in passing.”

Dorothea smirked. “You used to be such a good liar.”

“I have lingered too long, I must return to work.”

Dorothea looked ready to speak again but Edelgard placed a hand on her leg, cutting her off quite effectively. “Stop by if you ever feel the need to sing again,” she said before Hubert could start to feel too grateful. 

With a final scowl at their jeering smirks, Hubert retreated.

* * *

Once, and only once, Hubert caught Ferdinand humming the Stable Song. They had just finished a meeting to discuss a new orphanage opening in the west. One lord, earning a hard glare from Ferdinand, had spoken out against such a thing, as it would likely cater to more Kingdom children than Empire.

Even without Ferdinand fuming beside him, Hubert would have spoken up. “You seem to think we unified the continent only to take care of ourselves,” Hubert had stated, unimpressed.

“I think we shouldn’t reward the offspring of those who opposed us,” the lord had argued. “Let them rot instead of leaching from the victors.”

“You consider food and shelter a reward? And you would withhold such rewards from children whose only crime was being born outside the Empire?” Hubert put up a hand when the lord spluttered and made to speak again. One look from Edelgard gave him permission. “Thank you for attending but you are no longer needed at this meeting.”

After the meeting ended, Hubert was marking his notes when the hum caught his ear. His eyes went wide and he looked up sharply at Ferdinand. There was a smile to go along with the humming as Ferdinand studied the map of the western territories. Hubert could not guess what he was thinking of to inspire the song at last, but he wasn’t going to complain. 

Hubert relaxed in his chair, his irritation from earlier soothed almost instantly. He watched Ferdinand for a moment; aching to run his hand through that hair and get Ferdinand’s attention by rubbing small circles against his lower back, to have Ferdinand turn to him with a content smile and sweep away Hubert’s bangs and lean in for a light—

“Oh! My apologies, Hubert. I did not realize what I was doing.”

Hubert’s vision ground to a halt at Ferdinand’s voice. With horror, he realized he had begun to reach a hand out to Ferdinand. The humming had stopped.

Ferdinand cocked his head as Hubert pulled his hand away. “If you wished for me to stop humming, you only need ask. I sometimes do not notice when I do it.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Hubert stood, busying himself with his cuffs. “You seem constantly filled with music, it’s bound to ooze out every once in a while.”

Ferdinand wrinkled his nose. “I do not _ooze_.”

“Would you prefer the term ‘leak’?”

“I do not leak either! I…” Ferdinand grinned triumphantly. “I _radiate_ music!” 

Hubert snorted. “Are you forcing me to call you radiant?” Not that Ferdinand would have to twist his arm about it. With his curtain of amber hair and bright eyes, there was hardly a more fitting word to describe Ferdinand.

“I would believe you ill if you did so.” Ferdinand rolled up the map and tucked it under his arm. “Anyway, are we still on for tea and coffee later? I have a new coffee blend I was hoping you could prepare. I may like this one.”

“Of course.” Hubert gathered up his own things. “I look forward to it.”

Beaming, Ferdinand left the room. With the Stable Song fresh in his mind, and the meeting room now empty, Hubert hummed a few bars to him.

But it wasn’t the same.

* * *

Hubert found himself, once again, down by the stables just after dawn. It had been two weeks since he had heard that song properly and he was on the cusp of giving up. After once again working through the night, he had decided to simply recreate the circumstances under which he had heard the song the first time.

Only— the stables were quiet as Hubert approached. A peek inside the barn revealed it was empty, the horses having been let out for the day. He frowned. Surely Ferdinand wasn’t still in bed? The Professor had come to visit and was having breakfast with Dorothea and Edelgard soon, so Ferdinand couldn't have been called away by the Emperor.

Just as Hubert was considering foul play— not that he saw any evidence of such but that was how Hubert’s mind worked— there was the sound of hooves outside the opposite gates. Spinning around, Hubert watched Ferdinand open the gates and lead a horse inside. 

He was singing to himself. Singing the Stable Song. 

Hubert froze in place, ears prickling. Something in his chest shuddered as the words washed over him.

Ferdinand at last spotted Hubert and cut off mid lyric. “Hubert!” His eyes were round. “What’s the— I mean, w-what brings you here this early?”

A dozen excuses came to Hubert but enough was enough. Hubert all but stomped forward. This close, he could smell the saddle polish Ferdinand had undoubtedly used earlier, see the strands that had come loose from his low ponytail during his morning ride. “I need you to sing for me,” Hubert stated. 

Ferdinand stared. Then frowned. “Is this why you have been following me all week?”

Hubert held in a wince. So he _had_ noticed that. “It is, yes. You sang a song some time ago and I… I have been unable to stop thinking about it.”

With a chuckle, Ferdinand brushed past him to lead the horse inside for a drink from the trough. He pat the horse’s neck. “Very well. Which song?”

“It was about open fields and long awaited meetings,” Hubert described, because there was no way he was going to sing it again. “Something about a sky hung with gold? With winds from distance shores?”

There was a loud clang. Ferdinand had pulled a face brush from the cubby and dropped it into a tin bucket. The horse stomped in alarm but Ferdinand wasn’t looking at the horse. He was staring at Hubert again— only this time he looked mortified. 

Ferdinand cleared his throat. “I believe I know the one you mean. But I… Well. Stop me if I am wrong.” 

And he opened his mouth and began to sing.

It was like Ferdinand was summoning a summer day as he sang. All at once, Hubert was rejuvenated. He could almost feel the grass swaying against his knees, a hand pulling him into a dance and turning slowly in place together as the wind parted around them, sunlight warming their hair, waves far below promising adventure soon…

That last part was new. Hubert had leaned back against the door frame as he listened, eyes slipping shut— but he opened them now to watch as Ferdinand continued where Hubert could have sworn the song ended last time. He sang of untrodden paths leading to unpredictable seas. Of whispered words long overdue and fingers threading through his own and not letting go.

The last note rang in the quiet of the stables. Even the horse waited until it had faded before resuming his drink. Ferdinand, slightly out of breath, looked to Hubert. “Was that the one you have been seeking?” He asked slowly.

Hubert nodded. “Where is it from?”

“I wrote it.”

“You…” Hubert blinked. “ _You_ wrote that?”

Ferdinand meekly picked up the face brush at last. “Or rather, I _have_ been writing it. It is a work in progress.”

“That is most impressive,” Hubert admitted, feeling gratified when Ferdinand gave a shy smile. “I should have known— you sang it with such emotion. As if you personally experienced such a scene. I feel as though I’m on that very hillside.”

Ferdinand chuckled as he began brushing the horse’s cheeks, pink dusting his own cheeks at the praise. “No wonder you wanted to hear it again. You sound obsessed!”

“Nearly,” Hubert agreed vaguely, not wanting to reveal just how true that was. “What inspired such a song? It must be something you feel strongly, to have crafted a whole song around it.”

“I…” Ferdinand lowered the brush. His throat worked around a gulp. “Truth be told, I wrote it thinking about you.”

Much like the end of the song, this sentence too filled the quiet room like a ringing note. The horse grew quite impatient with the two of them and wandered over toward the large open doors leading to the pasture. 

Hubert moved forward, keeping his steps soft to preserve the silence a moment more. Only when he was inches from Ferdinand did Hubert speak. “You wrote that song with me in mind. Have I heard you correctly?”

Ferdinand lifted his chin. “You did. The song describes a daydream of mine.”

“I see. And when were you going to share this with me?”

“When I was satisfied with the song. Or quite possibly never.”

Hubert huffed and took Ferdinand’s hand gently. “Just because I never composed a song around them doesn’t mean I don’t also have daydreams of my own.”

The light blush turned red as Ferdinand stammered, “D-Daydreams? You?”

“Yes,” Hubert answered, voice low. “In fact, I’m having one now.”

Ferdinand’s hand tightened in his. “Share it with me.”

Hubert kissed him. Ferdinand relaxed against him instantly, as if this was their hundredth kiss. They molded together as easy as breathing, Ferdinand resting a hand on Hubert’s shoulder and Hubert wrapping an arm around his waist. Everything else ceased to matter with Ferdinand’s lips against his. Hubert doubted he would notice if Edelgard herself was standing behind them.

It was as satisfying as Hubert’s daydreams had promised— but, as he slowly pulled away, Ferdinand’s smile was twice as radiant as he had ever imagined. Ferdinand cupped his cheek and kissed his jaw. “Come riding with me,” Ferdinand whispered. “We can go south towards the sea. I shall sing for you, and you can tell me about your other daydreams.” His smirk was wicked. “Starting with how long you have been keeping them from me.”

Hubert thread their fingers together. “Only if you tell me how long you have been working on that song.”

“Deal.”

Hand in hand, Ferdinand led them into the pasture to retrieve a pair of horses. Hubert found himself humming the song as they saddled their mounts and sent a messenger to tell Edelgard that, unless something pressing came up, they would be by the sea. Together.


End file.
